


Red Velvet Batter

by Czaritsa (RomaStache)



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Underfell (Undertale), Domestic Fluff, Kisses, M/M, Overbearing Red, Sappy, Spicyhoney - Freeform, Suggestive Themes, Underfell Headcanons
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-27
Updated: 2019-04-11
Packaged: 2019-09-28 08:06:38
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,166
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17179085
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RomaStache/pseuds/Czaritsa
Summary: Stories that take place before the beginning  of the Red Velvet Reel! Mostly spicyhoney fluff in the different phases of their courtship. :)1) Eat Ya Fer Breakfast: Breakfast is the most important meal of the day, and Edge is going to make sure Stretch eats it. Even if he has to engineer a sleepover to get it! Red is less than impressed.





	1. Eat Ya Fer Breakfast 1

**Author's Note:**

> I see y'all's 12 Days of Papcest and wanted to join in! Sadly, won't be able to do all the days (or... prompts...) but I do have some stuff lying around! Perfect excuse to polish it up! <3

"You don’t eat breakfast?!”  
  
  
With how much time they’ve been spending together, and how often Edge is trying to feed him, Stretch is kind of surprised that hasn’t come up earlier.  
  
  
“Not really...” he admits with a shrug, polishing off the last piece of lasagna with gusto. He  _really_ likes this variant with ham and bechamel sauce- he’s tempted to get thirds, but knowing Edge, there’s probably dessert, too.  
  
  
“Have breakfast with us!” Edge makes the offer with the same conviction he does everything else: completely sure Stretch is going to accept. Red looks up from his newspaper, eyeing them both critically for a long moment, before dropping his gaze back down.  
  
  
“I’m, uh, I’m not much of a morning person,” Stretch rubs the back of his neck sheepishly, “Can we do Brunch instead? I might make it on time for that-”  
  
  
“That’s a completely different menu!” Edge crosses his arms, looking pensive, “I wouldn’t have time to cook  _and_ go get you... so just sleepover here with us! It’ll be fun!”  
  
  
Red makes a choked sound, turning to cough into his elbow with more decorum than Stretch thought possible.  
  
  
“With  _me_?” Edge corrects himself dubiously, looking confused as his brother starts sputtering. “ ** _You_**  don’t have to play host! We’ll just stay in  ** _my_** room the entire time, then!”  
  
  
“ ** _NO WAY_** ,” Red is emphatic, putting the newspaper down on the table hard enough everything rattles, “There connotations fer  _that_ shit.”  
  
  
“What connotations?” Edge tilts his head to the side almost like a dog, and Stretch crushes a hand to his mouth to keep from saying anything that’ll make his boyfriend self-conscious. _That’s so cute._ Red isn't nearly as endeared, putting his head on the wood with a groan. “ _Friends_  have sleepovers! And as my boyfriend, he is a  _friend_! And this time, it will be at  _our_ house! _Que pues?_ ”  
  
  
Red makes a strangled noise, glaring at Stretch accusingly like he asked for this. Clearing his throat, Stretch proposes a palatable solution for both of them. “If I end up staying, I’ll just take the couch-”  
**__  
**  
“ ** _¡_** ** _No!”_** Edge looks scandalized, “What kind of host and would I be?! A  _couch_ of all things!” He shakes his head emphatically, “No, no- you’ll sleep in a  _real_ bed tonight.”  
  
  
So this was really happening, huh? Stretch turns to look at Red with a helpless shrug. He tried.  
  
  
“Fine, fine,” Red massages his face with his hands loudly, emphasizing just how put upon and inconvenient this is, “Yer takin’  _my_ room then, ‘Etch.  _I’m_ stayin’ with Edge in  _his_ room.“  
  
  
“That’s even  _worse_ than the couch!” Edge protests loudly, “No one wants to spend the night in that- that- _asquerosidad!”_  
  
  
“Said no.” Red says simply, staring his brother down. Stretch has never felt more uncomfortable in his life.   
  
  
“What, protecting my honor?” Edge sneers dismissively, looking genuinely angry. With a sly glance at Stretch, his demeanor becomes mockingly coy, “You’re too  _late_. There’s nothing  _to_ protect.”  
  
  
“Still  _mi_ house, still  _mi_ fuckin’ rules.” Red bangs his fist on the table like it’s a gavel, but the hollow echo doesn’t seem too final.   
  
  
“ ** _Fine_**.” Edge has that glint in his eyelights that means it isn’t over, and Stretch isn’t sure he’s going to survive whatever crazy thing his boyfriend is planning. Red’s gonna kill him because Edge is going to take things too far.  
  
  
“Do you want to go watch Mettaton?” Edge asks casually, pushing his chair back hard enough it creaks. He reaches over to grab Stretch’s plate, hands playfully tracing his fingers. He pointedly ignores his brother’s plate, “I can do the dishes-“  
  
  
Whether it’s ‘later’ or ‘while you wait on the couch,’ Stretch knows he’s going to be trapped on the couch with an annoyed Red. “Let me help you do them  _now_ ,” he says quickly instead, making sure to grab Red’s plate, too. “I know you don’t like clutter.”  
  
  
“Always so helpful,” Edge purrs, leaning up on tiptoes to kiss him. “Good, helpful boys deserve rewards~” It’d be a lot more enjoyable if he didn’t feel Red’s eyelights boring into his back, like he could see  _every_ sin. Especially as Edge deepens it, hands wandering (where did the dishes go???) to start undoing the buttons of his cardigan. He feels so  _exposed_ when Edge pushes it down to rest on his elbows- he never had this kind of issue with hoodies - but he had wanted to make a good impression. (Maybe... that dating handbook wasn’t... so accurate... )  
  
  
Torn between arousal and mortification, Stretch ends up pulling away to put his hands on Edge’s shoulder. Still mindful of Red glaring at him, he cheerfully spins his boyfriend to face the sink. It’s a lot easier to do since Edge is in his house slippers, and they have less traction on the tile, so he does it again, just for fun. Edge doesn’t look nearly as amused, grabbing his wrists in a bruising hold.  
  
  
“Do you want me to wash or dry?” Stretch asks pleasantly, trying to coax the tight fingers loose.  
  
  
“ _Dry_.” Edge says after a long moment of glaring over his shoulder, putting a stopper in the drain. “You don’t know how to purify the water here.”  
  
  
“Purify?” Stretch almost forgets Red is in the room until a jug of something is put on the counter next to him, very forcefully. Stretch jumps and tries to pull away, but Edge is still holding his hands captive.   
  
  
“Mmhmm,” Edge arranges his boyfriend’s arms around his neck like a boa, giving Red a sidelong look as he turns the water on. “This water isn’t good, so we need to  _treat_ it first,” he continues airily, putting his hands over Stretch’s arms and snuggling into the hug. It sends a funny little jolt throughout his whole body, and Stretch wonders if Edge can feel his soul thundering in his rib cage.  
  
  
“Yer  **wastin’** water!” Red elbows his way in a moment later, holding out an eye dropper filled with some sort of glowing green stuff. He wrenches the handle hard enough it creaks, before squeezing one drop into the sink. The moment the drop hits the water, it goes from a slightly murky brown to a clarity Stretch didn’t even know was possible. It shimmers brightly for a moment, before going back to looking like regular old water.  
  
  
“Wowie!” Stretch manages to detach himself and crouch by Red, peering at the stopper in his hand with one eye shut. “What  ** _is_** that stuff?!”  
  
  
Red and Edge exchange a look, but Red hands the eyedropper over with a put upon sigh. “S’lil’ bleach, lil’ green magic, sittin’ pretty with a crystal.” He pats the gallon container on the counter with a grin,  a note of genuine pride in his voice, “Own recipe.”  
  
  
“That’s  _brilliant_!“ Stretch squeezes the rest of the liquid back into the container, peering in through the neck of the bottle at the Waterfall crystal at the bottom. “Bleach and the UV rays from the crystal act as disinfectants, and their power is amplified by green magic! 2 parts magic to one part chemical also dilutes the ickyness to near oblivion, undercutting the negative side effects!”  
  
  
They had recently started experimenting with magic and human-made goods in Underswap, but nothing like  _this_. Maybe when he got back, he could start plotting with Undyne- it’d certainly make everything a  _lot_ easier if they could develop something this powerful! If they were lucky, they might be able to make some something that could be put in the fridge or on a pantry, increasing the magic content of human food in bulk. And in a closed space like a bottle or fridge, it would be more of a feedback loop that would double the effects-  
  
  
“Yo, _Profesor_ ,” Stretch came back to himself with a start, looking at Red as a worn-looking towel is pushed into his hands. “Ya wanna keep yer hands busy as yer thinkin’?” He looked at the small stack of dishes Edge was putting in front of him, rinsed and wet. Oh right.  
  
  
Just as he finishes drying the first plate, putting it off to the side, Red is giving an exaggerated yawn. “Welp, I’m goin’ t’bed.” Stretch glances at the clock- it was only 8. “Night Honey. Maybe this’ll learn ya not to go volunteerin’ fer extra work.” He clearly hears Red mutter from outside the doorway. “ _Dumbass_.”  
  
  
“Goodnight, Red.” Stretch calls out to be polite, glancing at Edge, who was keeping unnaturally quiet.   
  
  
As soon as Red is gone, Edge has him in a (slightly wet) hug, arms locked around his waist. “¡ _Eso_!” His eyelights are bright and excited, giving Stretch a squeeze, “Pilas and getting Red to leave us alone-  _this_ is why I love you,  _Papí_!”  
**  
**  
Love. Hearing that, and seeing Edge smile so genuinely, fills him with a happiness that  _aches-_ Stretch leans down to kiss him, hands gently petting along sharp cheekbones. He nuzzles his boyfriend with a content sigh, holding Edge close. “I love you too, Pap.”  
  
  
“Of course you do!” He can feel Edge puff out his chest proudly, although the effect is undercut by that pretty blush on his face, “I am quite the catch, after all! You’re very lucky!”  
  
  
“I am,” Stretch agrees softly, leaning down for another kiss. He’s not sure how long they stay like that, trading soft touches and gentle kisses in the middle of the kitchen. It’s not how Stretch expected his evening in Underfell to go, but he’s far from disappointed.  
  
  
Stretch barely registers shuffling from the hallway before Edge is lifting him onto the counter. Those soft kisses turn passionate and deep, leaving Stretch’s head spinning and body pliant as Edge wraps his boyfriend’s legs around his hips. Just as Edge has his hands under Stretch’s shirt, deft hands pumping at his spine  _hard_ , Red pokes his head back in.   
  
  
Locking eyes with his boyfriend’s brother is enough to dampen his arousal, but he can’t clamp down on a moan fast enough as Edge  _bites_ him.   
  
  
“You’re so loud  ** _tonight_  **~” Edge manages to sound sultry and smug at the same time, arching his spine to pull Stretch closer. “I like it.”   
  
  
Red coughs, looking completely unimpressed as he crosses his arms over his chest. He looks so much like Blue- it makes Stretch feel younger, and the guilt hangs heavier around his neck. He’s not sure  _why_ he’s guilty, but he is. Funny thing- Red doesn’t look nearly as tense and uneasy with this rougher passion. Maybe he’s just allergic to softer forms of affection?   
  
  
“Oh,  **Red**  .” Edge sounds disappointed and haughty, but his hands continue to wander restlessly under Stretch’s shirt, “What do  ** _you_** want?” He rests his head against his boyfriend’s neck, cheek nestled against his clavicle in the perfect picture of faux innocence. “We’re  ** _busy_  **.”   
  
  
“Too bad.” He feels Red’s eyes on him, so Stretch looks at the fridge instead. It’s pretty homey, covered in magnets and pictures and notes that seems kind of out of place. There’s a few crude crayon drawings on it, but he can’t make out the illegible scrawls. One of them looks a lot like Red kissing a bottle of mustard. “12’s yer Cinderella time. If yer ass ain’t in bed, I’ll  _drag_ ya up there.”   
  
  
Stretch discreetly tries to push bold hands away from his soul. As Edge starts bitching at his brother, Stretch manages to get his boyfriend’s hands to rest on his palms instead. He interlocks their fingers to keep Edge’s hands from wandering again, tracing featherlight hearts with his thumb. It’s not enough to make Edge laugh, but he has to suppress a smile every time his hands twitch away. For whatever reason,  **that** brings the pinched, wary look back to Red’s face. Weird.   
  
  
“Whatever. Tick tock,  _Princey_.” Red sneers seriously, and Stretch has to fight down a snicker. “No soul stuff,  _or else._ Enjoy yer  _principe azul_ while ya _can_.” He turns on his heel, stalking away with a huff and a slew of curses.   
  
  
“I will!” Edge yells after his brother, stomping his foot in obvious agitation, “  ** _ALL OVER THE HOUSE! ON YOUR FAVORITE PLACES!_  **”   
  
  
Stretch feels himself pale at that. If their roles were reversed, he would do everything in his power to make the boyfriend as unwelcome as possible. Glaring from banisters and around corners, swiping his phone and starting drama among his contacts- stealing clothes, dunking them in water, and leaving them outside to freeze. He can only  _imagine_ what horrors Red has planned for him.   
  
  
Edge turns to him with a gleeful spite he might have enjoyed more if he wasn’t sure it was going to backfire so bad. His boyfriend was  _so cute_. “Stretch! Let’s-“   
  
  
“Are you cold, Baby?” He asks instead, letting go of Edge’s hands to rub at his shoulders. “I’m a little cold. Do you want some tea or hot chocolate or something? I could go for something a little sweet right now-“  
  
  
Edge lights up at that suggestion, all previous irritation giving way to excitement. He loves showing off his cooking. And Stretch is more than happy to sing whatever praises he wants as long as the food keeps coming. Edge yanks Stretch off the countertop, pushing him in the direction of the table. “I almost forgot about dessert!”   
  
  
The magic word. “Hell yeah-“   
  
  
“Sit down!” Edge disappears into the darkness of the living room, rummaging in a closet of some sort. At least, he thinks that’s a closet- admittedly, Stretch doesn’t really have their house layout memorized yet. They don’t spend as much time here. “I’ll put the  _chaleira-_ um, the tea-coffee thing- the water boiler-“   
  
  
“The kettle?” Stretch clarifies with a smile, getting up and stopping in front of the first cupboard he sees. Maybe their households keep it in the same place? He opens it cautiously, half-afraid he’s triggering some sort of trap, but it’s fine. Well, there’s a dog in a too small cage, bound and gagged and muzzled. It glares at him with its beady black eyes, shaking slightly in what must be a growl, but... It’s  _fine_. He closes the door as softly as he can, turning around in time to see Edge come in with a huge blanket.   
  
  
“Yes,  _that_!” Edge sounds triumphant, spreading the blanket on his empty chair. He gestures Stretch over impatiently, pushing him into the chair as soon as he’s within arms reach. “Sit and I’ll heat up the  _kettle_.”   
  
  
Ok. He can do that. Stretch rearranges the blanket so he still has enough to pull over himself, sinking into it with a content sigh. He runs his hand along the soft wool, marveling at the green and yellow tiger designs on it. There’s a big stain on the other side that looks like water damage, but that’s fine. It’s heavy and warm, and keeps the chill away until his boyfriend comes back.   
  
  
Edge places a steaming mug of tea in front of him, but it’s subtle aroma is mostly overpowered by the liberal use of honey. His buddy at the Ruins taught him a lot about aromatic teas, but he has no idea what it could be. Stretch takes a cautious sip, but it’s  _really_ good. It’s sweet just the way he likes it, sending a soothing wave of calm throughout his body. It’s like all the tension in his bones melts away, and as Edge comes back, there’s a sleepy slur as he asks, “What is it?”   
  
  
“Uh,  _Manzanís_.” Edge puts a little bowl in front of him, with a colorful plastic spoon sticking out of it, “It’s this pretty yellow flower with star seeds inside it. The Shop owner dries the leaves and crushes the seeds into a powder-“ Edge shakes out some sprinkles on top of something that looks like ice cream... but it isn’t cold? Huh. “It heals 30 HP, but then your DEF is lower. Many monsters here use it to help them sleep.”   
  
  
“It’s delicious.” Stretch knows if he drains the mug, Edge is just gonna get up to make him some more, so he pushes it away reluctantly. Stretch tugs Edge onto his lap instead, wrapping his arms (and the blanket) around his boyfriend’s waist. Edge manages to hide his surprise by immediately fussing, rearranging himself more neatly with an exasperated sigh. But he positively  _radiates_ pleasure as he snuggles in, knocking their skulls together gently.   
  
  
Stretch enjoys the faint blush to Edge’s sharp cheekbones quietly, unable to resist pressing a kiss to them. “You’re so beautiful, darlin’. I love you.”   
  
  
The pretty blush turns a vibrant red, and Edge turns his face toward the dessert instead. “Of  _course_ I am!” Edge sounds mostly confident, except for that warble on the first syllable. He keeps his fingers on the jaw, light enough it won’t bruise but hard enough Stretch can’t turn to look at him. He wonders if Edge is smiling.   
  
  
“And this is my delicious  _Nubillita_!” Edge finally releases his jaw to point out different aspects of his dessert. Stretch nods along, only half listening to the explanations as he watches Edge from the corner of his eye.   
  
  
His boyfriend   _is_ smiling.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Headcanon Notes:
> 
> 1) Manzanís Tea: A light brown tea with small black specks, it's well known for its soothing properties. It heals 30 HP, but lowers DEFENSE and makes monsters drowsy. (Based of off Manzanilla (Chamomile) and Anis (Anise) tea)  
> 2) Nubillita: A delicious dessert that looks like it came straight from a cloud. It has an unplaceable fruit-like taste, able to heal 70 HP. Optional sprinkles heal 1 HP each. (Based off the Ecuadorean dessert Espumilla, which is a fruit-based merengue that looks like ice cream, usually served in an ice cream cone)


	2. Eat Ya Fer Breakfast 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stretch wants sleep and breakfast. He doesn't get either quite yet, but Edge is a helluva consolation prize.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Eat Ya Fer Breakfast: Breakfast is the most important meal of the day, and Edge is going to make sure Stretch eats it. Even if he has to engineer a sleepover to get it! It doesn't quite go according to plan, but in Underfell, when does anything ever do that?

“...ch...”  
  
Feather-light touches to his face, trailing down to his arms in a very gentle shake.  
  
  
“...Stretch...”  
  
  
A little bit stronger this time, enough to get his attention and start rousing him to wakefulness- but not enough so he wouldn’t be able to get back to sleep in a few minutes.  
  
  
“Papí. Can you hear me?”  
  
  
Stretch grabs onto the arm shaking him like a koala, using their surprise to yank them into bed with him. Before they can recover, he climbs on top of them and traps them in a bear hug.  
  
  
“Five more minutes...” He mumbles against the side of his brother’s skull, shifting his entire weight onto him. Blue hates it when he does that, but it’s effective. And he needs a few more minutes of sleep. “Pleasssssseeee.”  
  
  
“...ok.”  
  
  
Stretch frowns. That doesn’t sound like Blue. He feels along the arms under his hands, decidedly not thick and stubby. Doesn’t feel like Blue either. He really doesn’t want to open his eyes at this point, but there’s a _weirdo_ he just pulled into _his bed._ They don’t feel unwilling or aggressive, so they were probably a friend- or at least someone _not_ dangerous.  
  
  
He slowly opens one socket-  
  
  
“Oh! Edge!” Yeah, yeah- it’s coming back to him. Edge talked him into sleeping over so he could have breakfast. So unless his brother used telepathy to figure out where he was (he _really_ needed to get better about calling him about stuff like this...) and suddenly got a big growth spurt (unlikely, puberty passed shorty by without a second glance...) this is definitely **_not_** Blue in disguise.  
  
  
Stretch gives his boyfriend a sleepy little smile, blinking down at him blearily before giving Edge a chaste little peck. “Mornin’, baby,” He turns his head to yawn out the last syllable into his shoulder, glancing at the room they’re in.  
  
  
“Good morning,” Edge answers back automatically, “How did you sleep?”  
  
  
Stretch is a little too preoccupied with his surroundings to give more than a half-hearted, “Good.” It’s a little different from what he remembers- there’s almost no space between the wall and the mattress, but there are two little tables wedged in there anyway, with a small lamp on one side and a whole bunch of jewelry on the other. At the front of the room there’s a huge wooden structure that looks like it’s a cross between a shelf and a cabinet, taking up most of the wall. There’s a modest tv sitting on a doilie, and what looks like a space dedicated to liquor and snacks just below it.  
  
  
Where are the action figures and posters? That cute little cylindrical piggy bank covered with pictures of some cartoon Edge doesn’t know anything about? It takes him a long moment of speculation, staring down blankly at his boyfriend who still hasn’t moved, when he finally remembers where he is: Red’s room.  
  
  
“Sorry-“ Stretch scrambles off Edge the instant his half-asleep consciousness remembers Red’s threat and why canoodling on _Red’s bed_ is a bad idea. He half expects to see sullen white eyelights glaring at him from the hinges of the slightly ajar door. It’s empty, but  he knows too well that just because he can’t _see_ him doesn’t mean Red isn’t there, “I shouldn’t have-“  
  
  
“Why not?” Edge asks innocently, grabbing Stretch’s arms and putting them around his waist. He snuggles in with gusto, looping one arm to rest on his boyfriend’s ribs and using the other to gently trace along his back, “I like it.”  
  
  
If Stretch had been sleepy earlier, the nonsense patterns Edge keeps tracing on his back are as good as a lullaby. This is... really, really nice. His sockets slip close again before he knows it, and he leans forward until his face is against Edge’s collarbone. His boyfriend shifts like he’s a little ticklish, or nervous about what Stretch is planning on doing there, but he just inhales.  
  
  
Although he learned in grade school that every single monster had unique magic, Stretch didn’t realize they all had unique _smells_ too. Edge’s magic smells like perseverance in the face of adversity, chuquiraguas in the snow, and spicy sweetness that stings and soothes. There’s also the faint smell of good cooking clinging to his high neck blouse that’s making him hungry.  
  
  
It should probably make him a different type of hungry, knowing Edge is wearing that type of blouse to hide the love bites from Red... But he just really, really wants breakfast. It’s gonna taste so good, seasoned to perfection and love in every bite. _All for him!_ Edge is undoubtedly pulling all the stops today, making stuff he usually wouldn’t for a regular old breakfast with Red. A whole bunch of extra effort because _Stretch_ is here, like he’s someone special or important enough to warrant all this special treatment. He is to Edge, obviously, but…  
  
  
That thought makes him really happy. Soul-swelling, smile widening happy.  
  
  
“Hey,” Stretch asks softly, letting the words come from his heart without the filter of his brain, “Do you wanna move in together, darlin’?”  
  
  
“Together?” Edge doesn’t say anything for a long moment, looking down at the covers in obvious consternation, “ _Under_ the blanket?”  
  
  
He picks at a yellow stain Stretch _hopes_ is mustard, but makes no move to let him go. “I think it would be better if we go to my room,” Edge tells him seriously, as though Stretch wouldn’t follow him wherever he wanted to go. He would even follow Edge outside with (minor) complaint, “My blankets are cleaner and softer.”  
  
  
“I believe you,” He agrees with a smile, closing his eyes again, “But I’m happy here, right now.”  
  
  
He can’t see Edge smile back like this, but he hears it in the soft reply, “Me too.”  
  
  
Edge didn’t understand what he was trying to ask, but that’s okay. It’s probably something he should think long and hard about, anyway, and even longer and harder together as a couple. But the thought of waking up to **_this_** each and every morning is still incredibly appealing. Warm arms holding him close as gentle hands scratch his back, warm and sleepy and safe? **_Heaven.  
  
  
_** “I love you,” he mumbles as he begins drowsing, dreaming of an apartment where there is a full shoe rack by the door with only two pairs of shoes on it that belong to him. The kitchen always smells like something is cooking and their bed has too many pillows and blankets.  
  
  
 _“Ñaño!”  
  
  
_ Stretch’s drowsy bliss is cut short by a familiar voice that has him jolting awake.  
  
  
 _“‘Purate, huevón!”_ Red must have been calling from all the way downstairs, but he’s still loud enough to be heard all the way upstairs. It actually almost sounds like he had been standing _next to them,_ but that wasn’t possible, right?! “S’fuckin’ **burnin’!** ”  
  
  
 _“Caraver-!”_ Edge starts cursing under his breath, literally kicking up the covers as he struggles to get up. _“Mis verdes!”  
  
  
_ He’s out the door like a shot, tripping over Stretch’s sneakers and cursing the doorframe as he hits his shoulder. Unusually clumsy, but it’s really endearing that Edge now trusts him enough to show this less put-together side of him.  
  
  
 __“‘Pagalo pues, hijuepu-!” Edge starts yelling back, stomping down the stairs loudly enough Stretch wonders if their neighbors can’t hear them too. Maybe they’re having an equally busy morning. Maybe nobody cares.  
  
  
He stares up at the jagged plaster that makes up the ceiling, following the edges down to the solid brick that makes the wall. Stretch should probably get up and see if he can’t help Edge out in the kitchen or something, but it’s so warm here. Maybe he’ll just keep drowsing until he’s called-  
  
  
Suddenly, there’s a shadow over him and the room feels a few degrees too cold despite the heavy blanket on him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so tired and stressed dsfjdjfksj END OF SEMESTER Y R U LIKE THISSSSSS
> 
> Thank yall for ur patience and support~ <3

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so very much for your readerships, kudos, and comments! <3 I really appreciate your support!!


End file.
